


Fiddler on the moon

by StarlitShadowHuntress



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Gen, my sweet sweet violin boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 16:55:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlitShadowHuntress/pseuds/StarlitShadowHuntress
Summary: Magnus Burnsides does not remember who exactly supplied the music on the happiest day of his life.Johann does.Because he was the one that played.In which Johann hails from Raven's Roost and tries to avoid his regular existential crisis.





	Fiddler on the moon

**Author's Note:**

> Recommended listening: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tEYV6QBw0E

Johann jams out with the voidfish as his only audience often. Any musician worth their music knew the value of practicing, even if they never did it regularly. But on a floating moon base, working with regulators and reclaimers to save the world?

Shit got so boring for a bard. It wasn’t like he had anyone to go to the Chug n’ Squeeze with, and trying for a new instrument from the fantasy gachapon meant having to talk to Leon. Ever since the artificer had forgotten to lock the bathroom door that one morning, things between them had been no less than awkward.

So, Johann played in his free time.

He used his dorm for two things: sleeping, and instrument storage. With a shared room and no soundproofing, he couldn’t exactly bust out the good old strings and shred whenever without bothering everyone in the hall. There was always the Director’s office, but he was too scared to ask if she liked fantasy Dvořák as she triangulated her relics to even play within a ten meter radius from her door. The only remaining vacant spot on the moon was the voidfish’s chamber, with decent soundproofing and better acoustics, so that was where he found himself most days.

He liked it that way, if he was being honest. Just him, his passion, and a giant, glowing fish that wiped everyone’s memories.

No biggie.

He also liked playing at funerals, but that was only because everyone would get crowded into the voidfish’s chamber to remember whoever had died, and they’d get to hear him play, too.

The voidfish seemed to like the performances and practices Johann held in its room, swimming to the beat. It also seemed to enjoy eating his sheet music more than it did other written snippets of memories that needed to be forgotten. Johann saw how it lazily ate its way through scrolls from the director, but would practically leap out of the water when he made to feed it with an original composition.

So, Johann tried his hardest to feed music to the fish, when he could. It made it happy, and bards were supposed to do that. Besides, who’s to say that the world’s greatest musician wouldn’t benefit from some support from a fan every once in awhile?

They had a system. He’d go in, have a one-sided conversation with the voidfish, play the piece that he intended to wipe from common knowledge, and then drop it into the tank. After that, he’d go through scales, some bowing drills, and some other repertoire, throwing in a stupid anecdote here and there. Break for lunch. He’d return later in the afternoon and improvise in front of the voidfish, trying his best to create a wonderful meal that it would enjoy. He always brought a roll of fresh parchment with him in the afternoon, in case he ever improvised such a great piece that it demanded documentation.

Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays were violin days.

Tuesdays and Thursdays were lute days.

Ukulele days alternated weekends with the double bass, cello, and harp.

Sure, Johann could play any instrument you gave him, but it wasn’t like he was about to ask for a piano next to the tank just to keep the fish happy. If it got even the slightest bit wet, he might cry.

He also made it a point to never play wind instruments in the room unless he had to. He knew his limits, and one of them was the pan pipes. He didn’t have the constitution to hit any note higher than a B-flat on his good days.

Each time Johann dropped his paper into the tank, it filled him with the type of validation that creators like him fed on. Knowing someone out there cares to listen to what you have to put out. It felt nice, caring for the voidfish in the way that only he knew how, the only way that he could care for it, that nobody else could do.

It also felt nice to play whatever he'd scrawled on paper one last time before its memory was lost to the world. _Suck on that, fantasy Bach. That’s for all of the partitas that I had to practice as a child. Fuck your absurdly big hands, fantasy Paganini. Everybody thinks that you only ever wrote 23 caprices in that set, now._

It also filled him with an inexplicable existential dread, every time he fed the fish a particular piece that he had played on Earth and watched as it lit up like a Candlenights bush. That many people on Earth cared to hear that song, huh? And now, none of them could remember it.

Fate worked that way, sometimes.

It had been this way for years.

He’d go down to Neverwinter to hang out with Avi, stopping for an hour to busk in the streets while Avi bought some snacks. He might slip up and accidentally play something that should have been wiped from collective memory, then find himself in front of an audience that clutched their heads in confusion, and Avi would keep him from setting foot on land until Lucretia set the record straight again.

But recently, his private jam sessions had started being interrupted. Not that he was complaining, of course. The best violin boy on the moon base ought to have sold out concerts every night. It was just… rare that anyone stayed longer than a song or two on the occasion that he played out in the quad.

But ever since Magnus had returned from retrieving the temporal chalice, he’d been acting up and hanging out by the voidfish more often. Which meant Johann saw him more often. That was fine. He always came in as Johann left to break for lunch, so they never really talked. That’s not to say Johann was jealous of the apparent connection between the two of them, that had been there since they had come back from Goldcliff. If anything, he was glad that Magnus liked to keep the voidfish company, too.

Fine. he was a little jealous.

First the team tank, the pride and joy of the BoB, gets to go on super cool missions while he was stuck on the moon base, and now he was trying to steal the company of the voidfish? Not fair, man. Save some for the rest of us, right?

 _Whatever. It wasn’t like Magnus hadn’t had his share of bad luck, too._ Johann thought as he entered the room, ready for another day of jamming with the jellyfish.

Huh. This was weird.

Magnus was here this morning. Sitting criss-cross-fucking-applesauce on the floor, in front of the fish.

Aw hell no.

First Magnus takes lunchtime, _which is totally fine, what do you mean, of course I’m not jealous_ , to keep the voidfish company, and now he wanted in on Johann’s morning schedule, too?

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Johann stepped into the room.

"Hail and well met, Burnsides!”

“Johann!” Magnus exclaimed, scrambling off the floor like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Good morning, my fella!”

“What's got you hanging 'round the voidfish so often?" Johann plunked himself down on the chair, eyeing Magnus curiously. It was a perfectly good chair, why hadn’t he sat in it?

"It's..." Magnus ran his hand down those majestic sideburns and beard before scratching the back of his head and sighing. "It's stupid. I shouldn't be here. I’ll get out of your hair now."

"No, it's fine, you can stay if you want. I don’t mind the company. Besides, I want an answer. Doesn't matter if it's stupid. Just tell me, and then write it down and the world will forget all about it, right?"

Magnus chuckled. "I suppose so."

Magnus watched in silence as Johann twisted the tuning pegs of his violin. "I-uh," he began, before stopping.

"Yeah?" Johann’s fingers kept twisting, left thumb plucking the string, his ear looking for the right pitch.

Magnus sat down on the floor again, hands folded in his lap. "I remember this one time, I crafted this beautiful violin for someone."

Johann’s tuning knob slipped between his fingers, unwinding his E string from the peg. Damn. He tried to keep his tone nonchalant, conversational even, as he restrung it.

"Really? I didn't know your carpentry skills extended to instrument creation. I thought that you just made chairs and stuff.

Magnus chuckled. "I do- well, I did, back before-” he waved his arms around, gesturing to his surroundings, “all of this happened, but the plucky boy who walked into the Hammer and Tong that morning seemed so insistent on having me make it, that I guess the gods heard and gave me a blessing or something."

"How'd you do it?"

"Well, once I figured out the shape and acoustics, it wasn't bad for someone working under Waxman tutelage. There was nothing that that man couldn’t do.” He sighed, remembering. “The hard part was choosing the right wood. I remember going into the forest by Ravens’ Roost and just camping, searching for days for the right tree. A young rosewood. That boy, he looked so happy when I presented it to him. Gods, it's been so long, he must be an adult by now. I wonder how they're doing?"

Johann's deft fingers had stopped when Magnus mentioned rosewood, although his G-string was definitely still flat. This violin, here, in his hands, was the rosewood one. The one that Magnus had jokingly claimed to take for his candlenights carvings. "Well," He forced a cough, forcing himself not to think that much. "As long as they weren’t in Phandalin, they should be doing fine, right?"

Magnus laughed. "You do have a point." He patted Johann's shoulder, one big hand almost knocking him off of his chair. “Sorry.” he apologized out of habit.

"Do you mind if I ask you again why you're hanging round here?” Johann asked, fiddling along the fingerboard of the tuned violin. “Your memory seems just fine, if you can remember making a violin amongst your many orders from your carpentry shop."

"It always feels like some part of my memory's patchy.” Magnus began. “I swear, something’s missing from my memory, and it confuses me to no end, because my brain just turns into static when I try to think about it, and it’s annoying as fuck."

"Need another drink of questionable tank liquid?"

"Nah. I personally wish that I could forget that taste entirely. What if we made the voidfish memory wipe that?"

"How would that even work? Would it stop tasting the way it does? Or would drinking it cause some weird loop in the flashback that would force you to remember? I mean, we’d still remember because we’ve been inoculated, but would a new initiate feel this way too?" Johann laughed. "Anyways, I don't think it's because of the voidfish, unless you’re the type of guy who needs regular inoculations of ichor."

Magnus shuddered. "I'm pretty sure once is more than enough for a lifetime. At least, I hope so. There’s something else that I find weird.” He added. “Taako remembered the first morning after we met how Merle and I took our tea and coffee. Said something like-” here, this mountain of a man did his best impression of Taako Tacco, lilt and all. “Double double, just the way you like it!” and after I asked how he knew, he interrupted me with a “how I know that you take coffee double double but tea with just a dollop of honey?” and it creeped me out a lot.”

Johann shrugged, before setting his violin on his shoulder. “I know what you mean. This one time I was just trying to string a piece together, and Taako ran up to tell me that the eleven notes that I just played gave him the distinct mental image of a female, more badass version of him on a violin and some Barry Bluejeans guy on a piano.”

“Weird, yet somehow, that’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard from the guy.”

"I know, right? Anyway, do you mind if I jam? I like playing my pieces one last time before the world down there forgets them. I also just think that the voidfish likes hearing what it's about to chow down on, before it actually eats it."

Magnus waved his hand. "Go right on ahead, pal. Unless you mind me listening. If that's the case, I'll leave."

"I don't mind audience feedback. It’s not like many people up here take the time to listen, anyway."

Magnus shrugged, before getting himself comfy on the floor. "Well, I've got nothing else to do. Today's my "Ignore Merle and Taako day" until they get themselves into trouble. I’ll stick around."

“Sure.” Johann stood up. “Suit yourself, pal.”

A happy caprice or two later, Johann decided on a little break. Gave him more of a chance to chat with Magnus, anyway.

“I never really asked you, how was Ravens’ Roost?”

Magnus’s voice was quiet. “It was amazing. The only place that’s ever really been home to me. The place where all of my happiest memories are from.”

“How was your wedding?”

“Great. Amazing. The happiest day of my life, for sure.”

“Did you dance?”

“Oh yeah, we definitely did. And let me tell you, buddy. The music...” Magnus trailed off, looking like he was trying hard to remember. “The music was amazing. You would have loved it. I’m sure.”

Johann smiled sadly. “I’ll bet. Did you ever hear from Kalen after the whole… you know…?”

“No.” He shook his head. “First chance I get, I’m killing that slimy bastard for Julia.”

“Good call. How did the carpentry contest go?”

“I won.”

“Congrats.”

“Thanks. You know, I had brought a dog back to celebrate with Julia. To surprise her, you know?”

Johann could hear his own heart breaking. “You did?”

“Jules and I had wanted to make sure we could take care of a dog before kids even went into the equation.”

“Oh. I’m so, so sorry.” Johann wanted to say more, but couldn’t find the words.

What do you say?

Even then, just what did Magnus claim to be forgetting?

_That song. Play that song. Even if you haven't played it in years, you have to try it._

"Hey Mag,” he pulled out some sheet music that he always carried with him. “I think I have a song for you. Stop me if you've heard this one before, okay?"

He shrugged in agreement. “Sure.”

Johann thought back to before the Bureau as he played. A young teenager with a passion for music. He had played at one wedding.

And it was there that Johann met her.

Lucretia was a beautiful middle aged woman at the time. She claimed to be an old friend of Magnus’ when asked, but Johann knew that she hadn’t said a word to him for the whole night. When he asked her about it, she smiled and redirected the topic by asking him how much he hated Liszt. Lucretia was capable. She knew her music and appreciated art. Lucretia was crafty.

She had left Johann with a business card before telling him to get out of the town for a few days around the same time that Magnus would leave for the Craftsman’s showcase.

Johann hadn’t listened to her.

It was only due to his bard magic that he was able to survive the attack on the Roost.

He had gone to Lucret-no, Madame Director, quickly after that. Gotten his bracer and everything, sworn his life to his job and his allegiance to her cause.

Madame Director had shown him the voidfish. Had shown him what it could do. Had called it Fischer.

Madame Director had inoculated him.

Then, Lucretia had smiled at him, a sad smile. “Johann. It might be hard for you, but I’m afraid that I’m going to need the world to forget that you played at the Burnsides’ wedding.”

“But the beautiful music that I played then! What’s going to-”

“No, I see where you’re going with this, and trust me, I have a loophole. I can change the memories of those down below so that they will remember every note of the beautiful songs you had played. They just won’t remember who was playing it.”

“I’m going to be wiped from the collective memory of the world?”

She was silent for a while. “Kinda.”

“You just implied that everyone down on Faerun would forget me!”

“Johann. I can make it so that nobody forgets music in the way you currently think. I can make it so that people will remember that somebody, they don’t know who, they’re a staticky figure, played a beautiful song once- they can remember it was beautiful, can remember exactly how it sounded, that it was beautiful and it moved us, but they just won’t remember your face.”

“So either the world forgets the art, or they forget the person who worked hard to bring it to them.”

Lucretia winced. “Sacrifices must be made, sometimes.”

Oh, the song was over and done already. And Magnus was staring at him.

Teary eyed.

Scratch that, openly sobbing.

“I haven’t heard that song in forever.” he choked out, between hiccoughs.

Johann breathed a sigh of relief. Thank Corellon. The man remembered the song, and now he could piece together the rest.

The song had come from some elf travellers once, Johann was sure. Was he the one that had heard it from a night camping with the elves, or had he just invited them into the house without a second thought, if only for music lessons exchanged for meals and shelter? He wasn’t too sure anymore. Regardless, he remembered the merry band teaching him how to properly tune by ear- _you have to feel for it. You’ll know when you have it._ and giving him advice on how to improve his playing- _good bow technique and practicing slowly and smartly is the only way to realize your musical vision, boy. That, and more scales._

A young Johann had stood in the crowded store, waiting for his violin.

He had been approached by Magnus with a request. Magnus would provide words, but he wanted Johann to play the song that he played often. The one he had learned from the elves.

Johann had watched Julia and Magnus, folk heroes, yet humble in their greatness, get married.

He had watched, and provided the soundtrack to their revelry that night. It was the least that he could do, really. Why not play at a wedding with the violin that the legendary Magnus Burnsides had made for him, as thanks?

Years ago, he had watched a newlywed couple make up their own lyrics on the spot, dancing and laughing with everybody else. Dreaming.

A burly man, a folk hero, had taken his new wife by the hand and had kneeled down before her. He’d kissed her hand before nodding at Johann. When he played, the man sang.

“I’d swim and sail, through savage seas, with ne’er a fear, of drowning.” He smiled at his wife, who was looking at him with a mix of exasperation and tenderness.

“And gladly ride through time and space, if you would marry me.”

“You dummy, we just got married a few hours ago!”

“And I still can’t believe it! Now let me serenade you!” He nodded at Johann again, to get him to continue.

“No scorching sun, nor freezing cold-”

Jeez, this was going to take forever. Maybe he could help it along?

“Will stop me on my journey!” That was a mistake, Johann realized, as his voice cracked.

“Johann, what the fuck?”

“Sorry! Continue!” he set his violin again, waiting for Magnus to keep singing.

“If you would promise me your heart, and love me for eternity.”

Julia took initiative. She grabbed her husband by the collar and dipped him low, laughing as he turned bright red. After setting him upright again, she patted his arm, before nodding at Johann.

“My turn!” She exclaimed, to hoots from the crowd. “Keep playing, Johann!”

He did, a little too scared to argue against her.

“My dearest one, my darling dear, your mighty words astound me.” Julia Burnsides had a deep singing voice, one that could beckon you to her call without you even noticing.

“But i’ve no need of mighty deeds when I feel your arms around me.”

Magnus finally shocked himself out of his stupor, chasing his wife around the packed room. “But I would bring you rings of gold, I’d even sing you poetry-”

“Oh, would you?” Julia giggled as Magnus grabbed her waist and lifted her as he continued.

“And I would keep you from all harm, if you would stay beside me!”

Julia wiggled her hand in front of her husband’s face. “I’ll smith our own damn rings of gold, I care not for your-” she made air quotes with her fingers, rolling her eyes. “Poetry.”

Magnus set her down, a little sad. She squished his cheeks in, giggling. “I only want your hand to hold-”

“I only want you near me!”

They really were made for each other, weren’t they? Johann thought, as he played.

“To love, to kiss, to sweetly hold, for the dancing and the dreaming, through all my sorrows and all nights, I’ll keep your laugh inside me.”

Here they were, finishing each other’s sentences, singing the same words as they whirled around on the dance floor, barely caring about everyone else.

“I’d swim and sail on savage seas, with ne’er a fear of drowning, and gladly ride the waves of life, if you would marry me!” the couple had finished the song together, to applause and laughter.

Johann had written that song down, with the improvised lyrics and a slice of wedding cake on his bedside table that night. It had been too good to pass up. "For the Dancing and the Dreaming" sat proudly on the top of the page.

He stared down at the sheet in his hands now, the childish notes and clumsy calligraphy still showing the same title.  
"You're not gonna feed that to Fisher, now are you?" Magnus asked.

Johann paused, "No."

He turned to leave. It hurt to stay here. Magnus probably needed some time to process things, too.

"Besides,” he called over his shoulder, “not much of a point. There's virtually nobody left down there that still remembers it, anyway."

**Author's Note:**

> I am sorry but my poor boy is dead and now I might as well publish this angst now because who knows when TAZ is ending.


End file.
